


a whole lotta huggin' (hugs and cuddles challenge)

by cecilia095



Category: New Girl
Genre: Canon Compliant, Challenge Response, Challenges, Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hugs, M/M, Multi, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilia095/pseuds/cecilia095
Summary: “It’s just: hugging, and I’ll invite you next time I’m miserable, which will probably be tomorrow. Stay tuned.” //20 hugs and cuddles challenge, New Girl style.
Relationships: Cece Parekh/Schmidt (New Girl), Jessica Day & Cece Parekh, Jessica Day/Nick Miller, Nick Miller/Schmidt (New Girl), Winston Bishop/Aly Nelson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 111





	a whole lotta huggin' (hugs and cuddles challenge)

**Author's Note:**

> Phew. This was a damn labor of love. No wonder why they call these fic _challenges_ , huh? I found this one on LJ. [astrum_presul](http://astrum_presul.livejournal.com/), my favorite fic writer in the '24' fandom did this challenge for Tony/Michelle and I loved it so much I wanted to try my hand at my own! I've never done something like this before, but I'm pretty pleased with the result and hope you like it too!
> 
> So... we've got 20 New Girl hugs. I didn't want to dedicate this to a specific pairing because I miss seeing all of these clowns together. Some of the most memorable scenes from New Girl for me are the group scenes; they just did them so well. This is an ensemble-y, feelings-y fic featuring all of the gang. Some parts will be couple-y, some won't, and these stories have no specific order/time frame that they exist in. Some are canon, some are canon-ish, some are not.
> 
> The prompts are as follows: 1. Platonic | 2. Sleepy | 3. Hurt/Comfort | 4. Sick!Fic | 5. Tackle!Hug | 6. Post-Sex | 7. For Warmth | 8. Near Miss | 9. Manly Hugs | 10. Bear Hugs | 11. Group Hugs | 12. Fly-by Hugs | 13. Sleep Cuddling | 14. Clinging | 15. Couch Cuddling | 16. Puppy Piles | 17. Hugs From Behind | 18. First/Last | 19. Stealth | 20. Writer's Choice - Weird Location

**1\. Platonic, Nick/Schmidt** ****

“Hey.”

“Go away.”

“Projecting your sexual frustration onto me isn’t cool Schmidt, and I’m not gonna keep remindin’ you of that.”

“I romantically released a dove into her apartment and she _still_ won’t speak to me.”

“You say ‘romantic’, I say ‘creepy’. Doves have been the star of a few of my worst nightmares.”

Nick sits down at the end of Schmidt’s (unmade) bed — pretty out of character for him; in the ten years they’ve known each other, he’s never seen even a corner of Schmidt’s comforter out of place. 

“Sometimes,” he starts, puffing out his cheeks, “we think we’ve found the right person for us, but we’re wrong. It sucks, man, but we’ve gotta learn to deal with it sooner or later.”

When Schmidt doesn’t respond, he adds, “Personally, I choose to drink about it, but…”

Schmidt doesn’t wanna hear it. He won’t even look at him.

“What sad, pathetic Fanfiction did you steal _that_ line from?”, Schmidt scowls.

Nick rubs his hands together and admits: “My own, actually.”

“Cece and I not being together does not make sense to me,” Schmidt sadly admits after another awkward minute of silence.

“C’mere, man.”

“Come _where_? We’re in the same vicinity, Nick. We’re _always_ in the same vicinity. Where do you want me to come? There's nowhere to come!”

“I just… I’m gonna do this real quick, and I don’t… I don’t want it ever brought up again, okay? Not at loft dinners, not on your Facebook status, _definitely_ not to Winston…”

Schmidt swivels his desk chair around to face Nick as he walks toward him with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched.

“I feel like ‘ya need one, so I’m gonna give ‘ya one.”

Schmidt raises a brow. “A kiss?” 

“A ki — What made you think I was comin’ over here to give you a _kiss_ , Schmidt? Why do you have to ruin everything by making it sexual?! I’m just giving you a hug, man; you look like you could use a damn hug.”

Schmidt lets Nick stiffly wrap his arms around him and he leans his head into the crook of his shoulder longer than Nick would like him to, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you, Nicholas. I _did_ need that. Now go away.”

“Trust me, Schmidt. I want nothing more.”

/////

**2\. Sleepy, Cece/Schmidt/Ruth**

Their three-year-old suddenly stops sleeping through the night, and she’s scared of her own room despite Schmidt spending four long weekends creating a princess-themed palace for his daughter. _You_ try turning a twin bed into a horse-drawn carriage with only Winston’s (mediocre, basically _useless_ ) help. Yeah.

Their daughter’s little thirty-pound body feels like it’s a million degrees, sandwiched in between Schmidt and Cece’s in their king bed that suddenly feels like a bed in a college dorm room.

“Mommy. Mommy. _Mommy Mommy Mommy_.” She tugs on a strand Cece’s hair, waking her out of the sleep she just barely fell into. “Where did the baby in Aunt Aly’s belly come from?”

Cece, half-aware, hoarsely answers, “Um, the moon” and then tells Ruth to please, please go back to sleep.

“I _can’t_.” Cece closes her eyes tightly and sighs, and Ruth takes that as a hint to move onto Parent Two. Schmidt’s next to be disturbed, Ruth sliding her cold foot up and down his calf as she whispers, “Daddy… Daddy…”

“Y-Yeah, honey?” He never really fell asleep; he’s just been sitting here listening to Ruth babble for the last two hours. 

“Can we get a dog like Mario?” Jess and Nick just adopted a dog, and it’s all she’s been talking about.

“Can’t. Mommy’s allergic, remember?”

“What’s _allergic_?"

“Remember Uncle Winston’s face when Aunt Jess brought those daisies to the barbecue?”

Ruth snorts. “Yeah. He looked funny.”

“ _That’s_ allergic. Hey, can Daddy move you to your big girl room, now?”

Ruth looks at him like he just offered to put her up for adoption. “No!”

“Why not?”, he pleads, taking his hand and rubbing it up and down Ruth’s arm. “We made it special _just_ for you, remember?”

“I just like you and Mommy, Daddy. Okay?”

He stifles a laugh and reaches over Ruth to shake Cece’s shoulder. She groans, because she’s the one who has to be up for work in a few hours.

“Hey Ceec, she’s just in here because she likes us. Could be worse.”

Cece wordlessly envelopes Ruth in a hug, and Schmidt squeezes in too. It’s three, maybe almost four in the morning, but this is everything they’ve ever wanted, right here on this bed.

Could be worse.

/////

**3\. Hurt/Comfort, Aly/Winston**

“I had to find out from a _group message_ with your _roommates_ that you got hurt running on the job today.”

Winston’s on the couch, a pack of Schmidt's frozen edamame pressed up against his bruised cheek.

Aly storms into the loft, and he doesn’t even ask who let her in, he just lets his makeshift ice pack fall to the floor and reaches his arms out to give her a hug.

Winston runs a hand through her hair, tugging her in closer, and he doesn’t even wince when Aly’s own cheek is pressed up against his injured one. When Winston hugs, he _hugs_ , damn it.

The hug lasts longer than an angry, anxious, left-in-the-dark Aly would usually allow a hug to last, but she just looks happy that he’s okay.

“What happened? I tried to ask Daniels back at the station, but he told me to let you tell the story.”

“I…”, he pulls away, his hands still resting on Aly’s forearms. “That’s correct, I _was_ on duty, and I was running. Into a bagel store. Someone closed the door in my face. I didn’t even get my blueberry with cream cheese! I deserve that damn cream cheese, Aly!”

/////

**4\. Sick!Fic, Jess/Nick**

They broke up with each other just a week ago, but now he’s got a fever and she’s not someone who can just… ignore that and not be tempted to take care of him. Low-grade fevers, sniffles, and someone’s body wrapped up in a comforter like a burrito are just a few of her many weaknesses.

“Open up. Under your tongue.”

He feels too lousy to reject the thermometer she’s holding out to him, so he takes it and does what she says, but he winces at the glass of that powdery, orange crap she’s got in a glass in her opposite hand.

“Not _that_ stuff,” he muffles, and she orders him to keep it under his tongue and _stop moving_. 

“We need an accurate reading,” she tells him.

He pulls the thermometer out of his mouth before it’s finished. “ _You_ need to let me fight this the way I do every other sickness I’ve ever had: beer, shitty TV, and not moving for four days.”

“I need to take care of you Nick, okay? It’s… it’s just what I do, and I know, I know we just broke up and we’re supposed to be ignoring each other but that’s just not something I know how to do right now.”

“Hey, c’mere.” He wiggles one of his arms out from underneath his comforter, and Jess hesitates to step forward. “I’m not contagious. Nick Miller Germs are not ordinary germs, Jessica.”

He hasn’t said her name since… y’know…

For once, Jess doesn’t say anything. She always has something to say, but this time, she just… lets him hug her. She can smell the sickness on his body, he’s a little sweatier than she’d like from the fever, but he hasn’t hugged her since they ended their relationship a week ago, and she’s not a liar or in denial — obviously, it takes more than a week to get over the feeling of your ex’s arms around you.

/////

**5.** **Tackle!Hug, Jess/Schmidt**

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

"You've gotta say it with more _oomph_. The sexiest man in Los Angel—"

" _Not_ the sexiest ma—"

"...is proposing to you in the middle of the living room."

"You're _not_ proposing to Cece in our _loft_ , Schmidt."

He's still down on one knee in front of her, using one of Jess's coffee table coasters as a makeshift ring box. 

"Where else am I supposed to do it?", he asks seriously, like The Loft is suddenly Los Angeles.

She huffs so dramatically that her bangs fly off of her forehead. "I don't know, literally _anywhere else_."

"From the top!", he demands, snapping his fingers and standing up, nervously smoothing his hands down his Best, Best Suit™.

She's only doing this because she misses middle school theater, mostly. "Ugh. Fine."

"Cecelia Parekh...", he starts, getting down on one knee, sliding his hands into Jess's, "will you ma—"

"Yes! _Yes_!" She presses into him with a lot more force than he'd been expecting — putting those theater skills to use; and it's also a boring Saturday afternoon — and he begrudgingly hugs her back because he's trying to stay in character, dammit.

"Was that better?", Jess asks with a squint in her eye when Schmidt pulls out of the hug. She's just waiting for the criticism. 

"Hardly. I can't breathe and you creased my suit. You were also a bit _too_ enthusiastic."

"You were proposing to me!"

"Still not good enough."

"Schmidt..."

"From the top!", he snaps.

/////

**6\. Post-Sex, Jess/Nick**

"So you _do_ think curses are real."

Jess rolls onto her side and props herself up by the elbow, her breathing finally slowing down. She's wrapped in nothing but a sheet, and she watches Nick nakedly step out of their bed in search of his pants.

"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying that most brides and grooms don't even see each other until they walk down the aisle. We just had sex on the morning of our wedding. Twice."

"And-a-half", Nick snickers, reminding Jess about the fun they had in the shower just before this. "Honey, who _cares_? We live together; where else were we supposed 'ta sleep the night before our wedding?"

"Cece and Ruth built a Bride Fort for me at their house, actually, so I have to deal with _that_ at some point."

Nick laughs as he slides on the first pair of sweatpants he can find in the laundry pile. (Yeah, _pile_. It's her wedding week; all folding and sorting — some of her honest-to-God favorite hobbies, really — went out the window.)

"Jessica."

She'll never get tired of the way he says her name.

"I-I have to start getting ready. Abby's coming to do my hair and makeup in less than an hour."

"You're trusting your sister? With your _face_? And the things _attached_?"

Jess rolls her eyes as she slides out of the sheet she's wrapped in and her cheeks flush when Nick whistles at her. "Look, forget I said anything about any curse. Thanks for the sex, it was fun, let's do it again sometime."

Nick makes his way over to her side of the bed just as she's slipping into her robe and runs both of his hands down her waist, stopping to hold onto her. 

She palms her hands over his to keep them from sliding down any further. "Didn't you hear anything I just said? Don't start something we can't finish now, Nick."

"I'm not," he promises. "I just... I don't care about curses. I just care about marrying you, Jess. I've been waiting to marry you for _so long_."

She slips her fingers in between his and takes a breath.

"I-I'll see 'ya when I see 'ya," he teases, pulling his bride-to-be in for one last hug before she runs off to go get ready. 

"See 'ya, Miller," she says back, snaking her arms around him and kissing his bare shoulder.

"You too, _Miller_ ," he reminds her of the new last name she's about to acquire within the next few hours and releases her from his hold.

If curses are real, she doesn't give a damn.

/////

**7\. For Warmth, Cece/Jess/Schmidt**

“We figured you’d be up here.”

“Then why didn’t you dummies look here first? I’ve been gone for like, an hour.”

“Honestly? It’s unseasonably cold, and I haven’t pulled out my fall cardigans, yet. I was avoiding this at all costs. _This one_ forced me to come with her to find you.” Schmidt answers honestly, and Cece just slaps him on the arm.

“Why are you up on the roof by yourself, Jess?”

Jess looks down at her lap, and then up at Cece and Schmidt. “I didn’t feel like watching Nick feed Reagan _my_ Thanksgiving food. Stuffing isn’t supposed to be sexy, it’s just not!”

“It’s definitely not the sexiest Thanksgiving appetizer, that’s for sure,” Schmidt agrees. “Everyone knows the sexiest appetizer is buttered rolls.”

Jess laughs for the first time all night. Seriously. Thanksgiving was a _mess_ — undercooked turkey, Schmidt coaching his drunk, crying father through his latest breakup, and then this whole _Reagan_ thing…

Cece and Schmidt sit next to Jess in unison, one of them on each side of her. Cece leans into Jess’s hair, and Schmidt taps her knee while he hums.

“I know you’re hurting, babe,” Cece says pointedly. “I wish there was something I could do for you. Do you want me to go back in there and compromise the stuffing?”

“That stuffing,” Jess says, her eyes widening, “took me _three hours_ to perfect.”

That's a no.

After a minute of silence, Jess just snakes an arm around both of them, pulling them in as tightly as her arms will let her.

“I’m cold, but I also really needed this hug.”

/////

**8\. Near-Miss, Nick/Schmidt**

Fine, so he canceled the frilly, Japanese garden-themed bachelor party. That doesn't mean he's crazy about riding around on motorcycles and drinking in saloons he's only seen in his nightmares in the Las Vegas desert with his best friends just to try and look tough and manly. But he _has to_ , because a Japanese garden isn't tough or manly, and _not_ _tough_ and _not manly_ is not what Cece deserves. She deserves someone who is going to protect her for the rest of her life.

"You almost got your face knocked off back there, Schmidty."

He's talking about the bar fight. It happened so fast, and all Schmidt knows is that his face looks like Winston's before Furguson got declawed. He's too scared to look in anything but the reflection of this trunk he and Nick are sitting in, though.

"I'm _fine_ ," he huffs dramatically, _toughly_ , ignoring the truck-themed band aid Nick just put on his scratched-up cheek.

"You know, you don't have to almost kill yourself to prove that you deserve Cece. She likes you even if you're not Nick Miller Manly."

"Oh, I'm not manly?" Schmidt retorts. "I didn't notice!"

"All I'm sayin' is, Cece's not gonna run at the altar because you can't punch someone in the face for her."

Schmidt looks around at the scene in front of him and silently cries because it's not a Japanese garden. "Thanks, Nick. Y-You mean what you said before that? That I'm a good husband to you?"

Nick puffs out his cheeks and goes, "Yeah, but don't like - don't go around calling me your husband or anything, Schmidt; I don't need the title!"

Schmidt wordlessly nods and throws both of his arms around his best friend, pulling him into a hug. He adds in a back pat — y'know, to make it more _manly_ and _tough_.

/////

**9\. Manly Hugs, Nick/Schmidt/Winston**

“I really like it when you do that, Nicholas.”

“When I _hug you_?” Nick’s glaring at him.

“Yes. This loft is drafty, and I’ve also had a rough week. Cece ignored both of my sexts and now I find out from Jess she’s on a date. Not just a date. A _second_ date. I have a stomach ulcer just thinking about it.”

“Well, I’ve met my quota for the year, Schmidt. Don’t ask me for another one.”

Winston stands up then, offering his arms out to Schmidt and wrapping him in an unwelcome embrace.

“Winston, what are you _doing_?! I’ll tell you what you’re doing… You’re wasting time hugging me when you could be in your room changing out of those _ridiculous_ pants.”

“You don’t like my pants, man?”

“A homeless man would rather walk around in nothing but a diaper than wear those pants, Winston.”

“I was just tryna join in on the man hugging, not get roasted, damn!”

“It’s just: _hugging_ , and I’ll invite you next time I’m miserable, which will probably be tomorrow. Stay tuned.”

/////

**10\. Bear Hugs, Jess/Nick**

"You're really bad at frisbee, Jess."

"Stop."

"No, I'm serious. Like, I know people who are just not athletic, but _frisbee_..."

Jess crosses her arms and stands concrete in her place on the grass. They're babysitting Ruth for the weekend, and she loves coming to this park, but not getting too dirty — _Schmidt's kid_ — so throwing around this orange frisbee they found in Winston's old closet it is.

"Aunt Jess! Throw it back!", Ruth impatiently demands, playing with the straps on her overalls and stomping her feet over and over until one of them complies. 

"Aunt Jess is actually disqualified, kid," Nick shouts. 

"What's _that_ mean?" Ruth raises a brow and races over to Jess and Nick, as Nick explains to her that some people are just not athletic, that a three-year-old just beat Jess in the art of frisbee throwing, that maybe they should go eat their peanut butter picnic lunch now because he's starving.

Once Ruth is distracted by little triangles of peanut butter and _Poppycock Palace_ playing on Jess's iPad, Nick lifts Jess up from the picnic blanket they're all sprawled out on and runs a hand up and down her forearm.

"You know I'm just messin' with 'ya, right?"

"Hardly, but it's not like I'm gonna have to go home and erase 'Frisbee Thrower' from my resume, so..."

Nick nods and wraps his wife in this huge hug, ignoring the fact that he's sweaty from an afternoon at the park with a three-year-old, that the scent of the bug spray Jess sprayed all over him before they got here isn't exactly comparable to that cologne she keeps buying him and forcing him to wear when they go out places...

She reciprocates, edging into him and squeezing him back. Sometimes, this... _this_ is all she really needs, and he's always happy to give it to her.

/////

**11\. Group Hugs, The Gang**

“It’s… it’s a boy.”

“A boy!”

Winston throws his arms up and gets up from his spot on the hard, plastic, hospital-waiting-room chair his ass has been planted in for the last… sixteen hours? 

He’s a committed friend, damn it, and he wasn’t about to miss this moment. (With his luck: He would've left, gotten into his car, sat in the parking lot for hours listening to the _Wicked_ soundtrack, and the moment he started to head home for some sleep... _that's_ when the baby would've decided to make his appearance.)

Cece taps on her sleeping husband’s shoulder, and he slowly wakes up, their own sleeping baby — she’s five years old, but she’ll always be their baby — sprawled out tiredly up against him.

Winston quickly gets Aly and their toddler on FaceTime so they can join in on the celebration, and everyone races over to Nick.

He’s got blue hospital scrubs on, his five o'clock shadow is now more like an eleven o'clock shadow because he hasn’t slept or groomed or moved from this hospital in over a day, and he’s a _dad_ now.

Ruth slides down from her Schmidt’s torso and throws her little arms around Nick’s leg. 

Cece, Schmidt and Winston (and Aly and DanBill, virtually) all join in too. 

Schmidt squeezes Nick's shoulder. "You did it, Nicholas! And you didn’t even pass out.”

“I… actually did faint. One of the nurses picked me up in time to see the baby’s head sliding outta Jess.”

Everyone’s still all tangled in this huge, hospital-waiting-room group hug, one of the happiest days they’ve had in a long time.

“Do you think she’s gonna freak out when she realizes she’s gotta name him Reginald VelJohnson because of that bet I lost?”

/////

**12\. Fly-By Hugs, Coach/Jess**

Coach's carry-on is slung over his shoulder, sliding Ruth down from his torso as Cece pulls him in for a quick hug and tells him that it's their turn to come to New York next.

"Hey! You forgot about me."

Coach hears his flight being called to the gate, having already spent more than enough time saying his goodbyes, hugging his whole, growing group of friends — seriously, " _There's a new little white girl every time I visit!_ " Last time: Aly. This time, it's Cece and Schmidt's three-year-old. 

"Coach!"

He's focused on nothing but the path in front of him, thinking about how fast he's about to race to his gate. Luckily, he's in his top-performance track suit today.

"Y-Yeah?" He turns around to see which member of the group is calling him, and _crap_ , he forgot to hug Jess goodbye, and he thinks about how much that would've sucked. Don't hug Winston? Fine, whatever, he'll text him about it later. Leave Nick hug-less? Good, Nick doesn't hug back anyway. But Jess...

Quicker than he wants to, he pulls Jess in for a goodbye hug and smooches her on the forehead. "Sorry. See ya. Next one'll be longer."

/////

**13\. Sleep Cuddling, Cece/Schmidt**

"If you tell anyone we cuddled tonight, I really _do_ have someone in my phone that can kill you."

"But then you'll have to admit to them _why_ you're killing me. Do you really want that, Cecelia?"

She actually thinks about it for a second, Schmidt's arm still slung around her pajama-clad waist. "No."

"I thought so," he smirks, tightening his grip around her. Asshole. 

They've been doing this dance for a few weeks now. She'll come to the loft, say her own roommates are being too obnoxious, wait until everyone's asleep to sneak out of Jess's room, and find her way into Schmidt's at one, two o'clock in the morning.

It's happened like, four times already, and she has no idea why she keeps coming back just to pathetically lay in her best friend's roommates bed, but whatever. She does, and she doesn't exactly hate it, either.

They don't do anything except lay together, because they both agree that sleeping alone sucks, and hey, he's nice to look at in the morning when they wake up. He sweetly kissed her cheek once, offered her ylang ylang tea and the remote. She told him to screw off, that it was _just_ cuddling and to stop trying to make it anything more, and then she snuck out before anyone could wake up.

"Ceec, one day, this'll be more than cuddling, but I'm patient. I'll wait."

"You do that."

/////

**14\. Clinging, Jess/Nick**

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Nick.”

He looks down at his shoes and cringes at how much sand is still in them. Falling asleep on the beach after having a panic attack in the ocean after finding out that he’s probably dying from cancer… yeah… that wasn’t in yesterday’s plans.

“Why? So you’ve got someone around to open the sauce jar for ‘ya?”

“Something like that,” she says, and now she’s looking down at the ground too.

When Nick doesn't say anything for a second, Jess does: "I was really scared for you."

He gulps, the words he wants to say back kind of stuck in his throat. "Yeah."

"And _no_ , it's not just about you opening jars or killing spiders or getting things on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet for me..."

"You use your special baking mittens every damn day, Jess. Just keep 'em in a cabinet with easy access! I don't get it."

Without saying another word, Jess takes a staggered breath and steps two steps in front of her, enveloping Nick in a hug. Her nails dig into his shoulder through his t-shirt, her cheek pressed up against the crook of his collarbone and his neck. He doesn't pull away, just rubs small circles on the small of her back, because he thinks she's crying but he's too afraid to peek and see if she is.

/////

**15\. Couch Cuddling, Cece/Jess**

"You know. I forgot how fun just spending time with you doing _nothing_ is."

They're both moms now. They're both responsible for keeping little people alive, all the time, and their Cece-and-Jess-Bonding-Days are few and far between.

"Is Reggie sleeping through the night yet?", Cece asks quizzically, remembering the days of getting up every two hours with a screaming, pooping Ruth all too well.

"Do you see _these_?", Jess retorts, pointing to the tired, purple skin under her eyes. "It's fine. He'll stop needing me when he's like... thirty."

"Hardly," Cece jokes, noticing that Jess's wine glass is as low as hers is and bringing the bottle up from the coffee table to pour them both another. "To us. For killin' it."

"To us." Jess's glass clinks Cece's, and they lean into each other at the same time, their knees touching at the same time their foreheads do.

"Twenty-something years later and I'm _still_ not tired of going through all of this with you," Jess sweetly admits, and it's not just the wine talking. Cece really is her better half, in friendship anyway.

Cece snakes an arm around her best friend's shoulder, tugging her in close. They stay like that longer than both of them even realize, their wine glasses still in their free hands, taking a few small sips in between silent cuddles. For moms whose houses are filled with the permanent noise of kids — Cece's a five-year-old who sings the entire _Frozen_ soundtrack from start to finish each day; Jess's a two-month-old who _definitely_ has his mom's vocal cords — they just sit and enjoy the silence, tangled up in each other.

"Jess! Ceec! Is this _finally_ happening?!"

Keys slam down on the hardwood floor of Jess and Nick's loft, and Cece jumps up.

" _This_ was us enjoying time away from _you two_ ," Cece says, glaring in Schmidt's direction, Nick right behind him with Reggie in the car seat. "Which is now ruined."

"Fun while it lasted," Jess says with a scrunched nose, squeezing Cece's hand.

/////

**16\. Puppy Piles, Jess/Nick/Schmidt/Winston**

"So, is anyone else going to comment on the poor interior decorating that went on in this bedroom?"

"Not now, Schmidt," Jess lectures, just above a whisper, but low enough so their mourning friend can't hear the dick-ish comments about his childhood bedroom walls.

"Nick?" Winston's the first one to sit down on Nick's bed, watching their best friend act in a way they've never seen him act before. His knees are to his chest and his face is puffy and his dad just died. He's allowed to fall apart, a little.

Nick doesn't answer, and Winston just pats his kneecap and says, "We're here for you, man."

"I know. I invited you here, remember?"

Schmidt's next, taking a place on the bed right next to Winston. "Hi Nicholas."

"You don't have to greet me, Schmidt. You've been in here for twenty minutes."

Schmidt dramatically lifts his own wrist into view, squinting and pretending to read the time from a watch he doesn't have on. "Twenty-three minutes, to be exact, and you haven't even looked at me! Do I disgust you?"

"Kinda."

Jess tries next. "You did a great job, today. Walt would be proud."

Okay, maybe her stand-out Elvis performance helped, but he had a big part in the funeral anyway.

"He's laughing at me from hell right now for cryin' like a little bitch, but thanks, Jess."

Jess is the first to inch in for a hug, both feeling like she's invading his space and also that he really, really needs this.

He doesn't hug her back, exactly, but he doesn't shove her away either.

Schmidt and Winston simultaneously join in, leaving the four of them in a weirdly-endearing position on Nick's childhood bed.

"You know, this could be worse," Schmidt points out.

"Could it, though?", Nick asks, wrinkling his nose.

"You're not exactly pulling out of it, Miller," Jess says, and she feels Nick hug her back in that second. 

/////

**17\. Hugs From Behind, Nick/Schmidt**

"Mmm, hey, honey."

"Hello, Nicholas."

"What the hell, man?!"

Schmidt backs away from Nick's backside, sliding his arms off from around Nick's waist and using them to protectively hug around himself.

"Two things: You're not my wife, and you don't even live here. Did you make a copy of my key again, Schmidt? Who let you in?!"

"Your wife."

"Of course."

They're both silent for a second.

"What the hell are you doin' huggin' me like that, dude?! I know I've been a little generous with the 'love you too's in text message, lately, but _that_ doesn't make _this_ okay."

"I just thought you could use a hug, okay? Jess said you've had a crappy week; something about your publisher rejecting the next book idea."

"Yeah," Nick confirms, "so?"

"So... I came over here to drop off something for Jess. Her 'Knit Simple' magazines keep coming to our house, I don't know why. Anyway, I - I saw you in the kitchen and hugged you. Sue me!"

"I might. That hug was _not_ Nick-approved, my man."

/////

**18\. First/Last, Jess/Nick**

The first time she hugs him after they breakup is weird, and she doesn't want to talk about it. He's in the fridge getting together ingredients for Nick Miller's Famous Eggs: eggs. She's reading a newspaper at the dining room table, pretending to ignore him. You know, typical Tuesday morning ex-girlfriend activities. She has an hour until she has to start getting showered and dressed for work, and she has no idea why he's even awake right now. It's three, four hours before his normal wake-up time.

He offers her a plate of his eggs, and doesn't believe her when she tells him she's not hungry. She stands up from the table, not even bothering to push her chair in — a pretty out-of-character move on her part — and says she's running late for work.

Nick looks annoyed, offended, sad even, that she just rejected Nick Miller's Famous Eggs. Or... you know... that she's dodging him. Yeah, they _did_ just breakup, but he doesn't seem to be taking it as badly as she is.

"I'm not... I'm not not hungry, I'm just...", she's trying to find the words, tugging down on her bottom lip while he just stares at her, still standing up in the dining room of their loft with the plate he meant for Jess in his palm. "It's hard for me to be in the same room as you, and I don't know how I'm supposed to feel around you yet, and you're - you're way better at this than I am, obviously."

"At breakups?", he questions.

"Well, yeah. You're... look at you! You're fine. I caught you making up a dance routine to the _Full House_ theme song with Winston yesterday. People who are trying to get over breakups can't _dance_."

"I'm not over it, Jess. I'm just... y'know... The only way 'ya get through it is to get through it."

She doesn't have anything left to say, so she just does the only thing she knows how to do. She hugs him, tighter than she means to hug her ex-boyfriend in the middle of their dining room, tighter than she's hugged anyone in a long time, even.

***

The last time he remembers hugging her before they broke up was over something stupid, and he's pissed that he can't remember the reason. Something about thanking her, for something. For folding his laundry for him? For awesome, break-the-bed sex before his shift at the bar? It was something mundane, but he's sitting here alone in his room, one-week post-breakup, thinking about how much he'd like to have Jessica Day's arms around him right now.

He remembers the last time they kissed, the last time they had sex — it was shower sex when only Winston was home, passed out in his room, and it was _epic_. But he can't remember the last time he gave her a simple hug, and it's pissing him off.

He squints at the clock on his cable box: 11:02. It's past her bedtime, but he has a feeling she's awake, for some reason. He slides out of his bed, puts on pants, and finds himself in front of her locked bedroom door, giving it a quiet knock so Schmidt or Winston don't take this as an invitation to come and spy on them.

"Jess? Hey, Jess, 'ya up?"

/////

**19\. Stealth, Cece/Schmidt**

"So, do you think they know we're sleeping together?"

"Oblivious."

"You threw my bra in with your laundry the other day. They're obviously going to know it's not Jess's."

He smirks at that comment, and now he's distracted, thinking about how blessed Cece is in the boob department.

"Cece, if you're implying that anyone else in this loft aside from me does laundry, then we can't see each other anymore."

"Fine, but they definitely heard me come in two nights ago. I tripped over Winston's puzzle. Who just leaves a puzzle laying on the living room floor?"

"Someone with the inability to complete one," Schmidt says angrily, remembering how bad his friend is at puzzles and wondering why the hell he's still wasting his tiny paycheck on buying them.

"Look... I'm not... I'm not saying I'd totally freak out if they _did_ know," Cece starts, and Schmidt cuts her off to tell her that's BS; ' _Remember, you threatened to erase all of my Homeland episodes from the DVR!'_

They're the only ones in the loft right now. He had a half-day, she's a model with an inconsistent schedule, and the rest of his roommates are at their jobs. 

They never hang out out here, out in the open in the kitchen like this, but no one's around, so.

"I'm... What I'm trying to say is that, _if_ they found out about it, it wouldn't - it wouldn't make me stop seeing you, okay?"

He's a little taken aback, because Cece's not exactly the one in this... relationship, if you can call it that, who expresses things like that.

She steps closer to him, and he backs up into the counter, his back resting up against a tray of Jess's zucchini muffins that he _will_ be stealing from when this conversation is over.

"Come here."

Again: he's taken aback. "What?"

It's not that they can't give each other a hug or two like this, but he tries to think of a time they've done anything affectionate aside from... y'know... the sex... during these last two months.

"I'm just trying to show you that I care about you, okay? So just... hug me back before I change my damn mind."

He does. He hugs her a little tighter, with a little more passion than just the person she's having casual, consistent sex with on the daily should. He doesn't tell her that he wishes they did this more often, either.

"You guys think you're _so_ slick!"

They pull away from each other like they've heard gunshots, and Cece backs up so far away from the counter she's basically in the living room.

"Winston, get the hell out of here!"

"I sawwwww youuuuuu," he sings.

"You saw me helping Cece find the oat milk. She still can't navigate our fridge."

"It's a perfectly clear system, Cece," Winston says, going on and on about how organizing their drinks in alphabetical _and_ color order really makes all the difference and letting that whole thing about the hug he just witnessed a minute before go.

/////

**20\. Writer's Choice - Weird Location, Jess/Nick/Schmidt/Winston**

Okay, so the Tin anniversary ends in a hot air balloon. Fine. Not his vision, but fine.

Also not part of his vision was the vomit-inducing engagement that went down a few minutes ago. At _his_ party. Did he actually vomit? No, but he came close when Cece and Shavrang cut _his_ Tin-finity cake with _his_ silver-plated utensils.

Jess and Nick are still being weird, something about refusing to share this liquor bottle because both of their mouths can't be on it, or something. Schmidt's too sick from Cece's engagement to pay attention.

"Guys. I'm in mourning and you're fighting over whose lips get to touch a bottle. Just shut up and comfort me, please."

"Mourning? She's not dead, bro. She's just getting married."

Schmidt dramatically brings a hand to his forehead and pretends to faint.

Jess watches all of the hurt in Schmidt's eyes and wishes she could do something about it other than distract him with some liquor and this hot air balloon. She forgets about the Nick of this moment, about his mouth against her mouth a few weeks ago, about any of that crap, because one of their friends needs them and she's reliable as hell. "C'mere, you guys."

One by one, they wrap Schmidt into a big hug and Jess cradles him against her, holding onto the back of his hair as he leans in closer to her.

"I'm - I'm not being touchy with you on purpose, Jess. I just need someone to lean on when I... when I... throw —"

"Yuck!"

"Oh my God."

"Are the hot air balloon people about to charge us for this? I _refuse_ to pay it!"

"Oh my God."

"I'm sorry Jess."

"I won't do it! I'm not surrendering my savings account to this hot air balloon company."

"Your savings account has _three_ , maybe four bucks in it, Nick!"

"Hey, there's Shavrang! Should we invite him in on this?"

"SHUT UP, WINSTON!"

"My _shoes_. Oh my God."

"Ahh, I love you, guys. Even if I just threw up on Jess."

/////


End file.
